Page 21 of The Inn Dilemma

“Well, he’s on the edge of needing dialysis or a kidneytransplant. And neither of those options have any guarantees.”

I say, “So you’ve been dealing with this mostly alone. I assume Mom has done the minimum to shoulder the burden.”

Chris scoffs. “Yeah, I shouldn’t be surprised though.”

“Honestly, I’m shocked she hasn’t mentioned it yet. I know her and Dad have far from a healthy marriage, but that’s no small thing.” My mind wanders back to our time with Trevor, and I clench my hands into fists. “I’m guessing you either haven’t talked to Mom in over a week or she hasn’t told you I’ve come home.”

“We’ve texted a few times, but she hasn’t mentioned it.” He looks up at the ceiling, then back at me. “She’s never been good at facing hard things head-on.”

I blow out a puff of air. “No she’s not.”

We’re silent for a long beat. I contemplate opening the new can of worms with our mom but before I can, Chris leans forward and says, “I think she’s having an affair.”

I swallow hard. “Yeah, I’m afraid of that too.” Trying to give her the benefit of the doubt even though it’s something she doesn’t deserve, I add, “Maybe it’s a way to distract herself from reality.”

Christian’s brow furrows and he grits his jaw. “That’s no excuse.”

“No, it’s not,” I quickly agree. Feeling a bit like Mom, I wave my hand in the air and change back to the original subject. “I’m sorry you’ve been facing this on your own. I should have answered your calls. There’s no excuse. I was so selfish.”

“You were,” Chris agrees, and he might as well have plunged a well-deserved dagger into my chest. “I’m surethat’s something else that’s keeping Dad from moving on and forgiving you.”

“Yeah.” My voice cracks.

I suspected he didn’t tell Chris he saw me since my brother would have shown up the minute he knew where I was. Guilt crashes over me anew, as if I haven’t regretted the decision to run away every minute since realizing my mistake four years too late. My chest tightens, my breathing quickens, and I can’t draw in a full breath. I curl my nails into my palms, attempting to ground myself to this moment. This is not where I want to slip out of reality. If I could just cry, it would release this coiled tension in my heart. I close my eyes, fighting against my lightheadedness.

After a deep breath, I open my eyes and look around, trying to find anything to ground me to reality.

Chris slips his arm around my shoulders. A picture of calm. Completely unaware of the battle waging as the numbness subsides.

If I’ve become a master at anything in my life, it’s hiding my emotions from the world. With practiced smiles, I conceal the crumbling pieces of myself. But as I’m here with my brother, who has forgiven me and been one of my safe places, my defenses crack, and my shattered pieces reveal themselves in every ragged breath I take. I draw in deep breath after deep breath.

Exhaustion from trying to stay strong has black edging around my vision, but I fight it back when I hear a distant, deep voice ask, “What’s going on?”

My brother’s arm is no longer around me as I’m scooped into different arms and cradled against a warm chest.

My brother’s and Holt’s voices sound around me, butI can’t make out anything over the roaring in my head. Other voices swirl into the conversation, but my mind can’t process anything they’re saying. All I understand is the warm comfort I feel while wrapped in these strong arms. The safety I feel as the arms tighten around me. The familiar scent of pinewood, fire, and leather helps calm me enough to breathe easier. I’m so comfortable, in fact, that I allow the edging darkness to suck me under.

Chapter Seven

Nova, Age 9

Mom and Dad are fighting again. It seems like that’s all they ever do anymore. I curl up on my window seat and cover my ears, clenching my eyes closed. Even though they’re in the kitchen and I’m up in my room, their voices carry through the whole house. I feel like I’ll never escape their terrible marriage.

They used to try and hide it around me. Now it’s like they think I’m old enough to see the truth—that they don’t like each other. I overheard Mom tell someone she’s sticking around just for me and Christian. Is it bad to wish she wouldn’t?

There’s silence for a few seconds, and I slowly open my eyes. Footsteps thump outside my door, but they pass quickly, and I can tell it’s Mom running to her room. Then I hear her pacing around, her cries muffled through the wall. I want to go over and comfort her, but it’d be no use. The last time I tried, she shooed me away and told me not to worry about her.

Her cries grow stronger, and Dad’s footsteps thumpup the stairs. I can hear a knock against Mom’s door before Dad asks if he can come in. Mom tells him no.

“Amanda. I’m so tired of this. You’re acting worse than a child! Why are you crying?”

Mom’s door squeaks as it opens.

“You know why I’m crying! It’s your fault.”

“If you’d just listen to me and act like an adult for once instead of flying off the rails and storming away from a hard situation?—”

“Our entire marriage is a hard situation. You can’t tell me you’re happy with this.”

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